One of the Angels
by smoke-at-dawn
Summary: AU drabble. What if John had received a tip off and got to St Bart's rooftop in time?


Sherlock stared down at the pavement, a dizzying length below him, and started to laugh; Moriarty didn't have him over a barrel like he thought, in fact it was the other way around. "What?" He heard his enemy shout behind him "what did I miss?"

He turned and hopped off the ledge back onto the roof "You're 'not going to do it', so the killers can be called off; there's a recall code or a word or a number" Sherlock explained, smiling as Moriarty bristled with irritation "I don't have to die, if I've got you".

"Oh! You think you can make me stop the order, you think you can do that?"

He paced around Moriarty, like a tiger circling his prey "yes. So do you"

"Sherlock, your big brother and all the king's horses couldn't make me do a thing I didn't want to"

Sherlock stopped in front of his enemy, staring into his eyes "yes, but I'm not my brother remember? I am you. Prepared to do anything. Prepared to burn." Moriarty's eyes watched him with an intensity that would've left most feeling naked and exposed, but Sherlock merely took it as an acknowledgement of power "Prepared to do what ordinary people won't do. You want me to shake hands with you in hell? I shall not disappoint you"

The man in front of him shook his head and looked down at Sherlock's coat then back to his face "nah. You talk big. Nah. You're ordinary. You're ordinary! You're on the side of the angels"

It took everything Sherlock had not to smirk "I may be on the side of the angels but don't, for one second, think I am one of them"

There was an agonising pause as realisation dawned in Moriarty's eyes "No, you're not," he closed them briefly, with an unnerving smile he opened them and nodded "I see; you're not ordinary. No. You're me." He held out a hand towards Sherlock "thank you, Sherlock Holmes. Bless you" Sherlock took the hand hesitantly "as long as I'm alive you can save your friends, you've got a way out".

Then, Moriarty started grinning "well, good luck with that" and Sherlock watched in horror as he pulled out a gun from his coat and turned it to his mouth.

Suddenly John burst onto the roof, both Moriarty and Sherlock turned to look at him and Moriarty's grin grew wider, he pulled the gun from inside his mouth and watched Dr Watson gleefully. John spotted the gun in Moriarty's hand and made to run towards Sherlock.

"Stop!" Sherlock yelled, holding out a hand in warning, John froze

Moriarty glanced at his adversary and laughed "Well, it seems one of your pets have escaped my little trap"

"Don't" Sherlock warned in a low voice, glaring directly at Moriarty, who just shrugged and turned to smile at John

"Hello Dr Watson" he drawled "what a pleasure it is to see you again".

John clenched his fists and stared at Moriarty "if you could call it that"

The criminal laughed "come now John, you can't still be bitter that I tried to blow you up. Business is business"

John felt himself tense at the sound of his name and all but growled in reply. He wondered why it had to end like this; Moriarty vs Sherlock and John in a face-off. Sardonically, he noticed there was always a gun involved.

Moriarty smirked at turned back to Sherlock "this will make an interesting addition to our game"

Sherlock glanced over at John, then looked back at Moriarty and whispered "this is between me and you"

Moriarty chuckled "oh no Sherlock, if you think I'm going to pass up an opportunity like this you are grossly mistaken" and in a second the barrel of his gun was pressed against Sherlock's throat.

"No!" John yelled, running forwards, knocking Moriarty to the floor and the gun from his hand. Moriarty lunged for his weapon and with a flourish, span and pulled the trigger. John fell; Sherlock grabbed him before he could hit the ground and searched frantically for the wound.

There was excessive bleeding from his chest.

Moriarty got up and brushed down his suit "shame," he sighed as he inspected a torn sleeve "I liked this suit. Y'know, it's often been said that I'm a damn good shot, one of his lungs I believe, I reckon he's got about five minutes left," he gestured towards John who lay cradled in Sherlock's arms "you are on top of a hospital after all, but they can get busy during this time of day. This does put quite a large flaw in my pretty plan, but maybe you'll throw your-self off the roof anyway. Ah well, until next time Mr Holmes" he walked away smiling, the gun dangling from his hand. A metallic clang sounded behind him as he vanished through the door.

Sherlock stared down at his friend in his arms; John's breathing was shallow and coarse, his eyes were closed and he'd turned a shocking white colour in contrast to the dark pool that was rapidly collecting around him "Sherlock" John rasped "Lestrade and Mrs Hudson… at Mycroft's. Tip off"

"John," Sherlock's voice cracked as he struggled not to break "please don't talk. I'm calling Molly now; she should be able to help" he dialled her number on his phone "Molly? Yes, I'm fine. I need some help; John's been shot. We're on the roof. Please, Molly, hurry" he heard his voice get more and more desperate while he pleaded, Sherlock didn't realise he was crying until he hung up and looked down at John; there were small, dark patches on his coat where the tears had landed.

"Sherlock," John looked up at his friend "you're crying. How… very human of you" he laughed quietly, only to suddenly start coughing blood

"John, don't" Sherlock tried to smile but felt it looked more like a grimace

"I'm sorry Sherlock; I knew… something was up. I saw you on the edge"

"But I wouldn't have died, I had a plan John"

John stared up at Sherlock in amazement, and sighed "so much for… that then"

"Its okay, John, everything's going to be okay" Sherlock willed John to believe those words because, even if he didn't himself, maybe John's faith would be enough for him to survive

"No. No it's not Sherlock... I don't want to go"

"Then don't. Please John, not yet. I can't say..." Sherlock gasped and clenched his eyes shut; he wouldn't cry in front of John, not when he needed him the most "I-I love you John"

John grinned weakly, his eyes shining with what little light they still had "you're so dramatic, y'know that?" he tried to laugh but coughed again "…love you too, idiot"

Sherlock smiled despite himself and pulled John closer.

There was a moment's silence before John closed his eyes and sighed, his arms falling limp. With a moan Sherlock sobbed and clutched John tightly, he didn't notice Molly enter silently onto the roof and start crying.


End file.
